


Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme - Chapter Three

by CavalierWolfe



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-20 21:50:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21288734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CavalierWolfe/pseuds/CavalierWolfe
Summary: Two boys linger on the edge of death. Can anyone save them?
Relationships: Reiner Braun & Krista Lenz | Historia Reiss
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme - Chapter Three

''Shitting hell!''

Rais gaped stupidly at the bodies, lowering the gently smoking barrel of his rifle. He closed his mouth full of rotten teeth after a moment, and placed the rifle aside; running towards the two he had just shot. Face shots, both of them. Full-on instant death, immediate put down, brains ruining the carpets beauties they were, both rounds.

So why were both still twitching? And what was that steam? He knelt by the larger body, the one he had put down second. There was a crater in the blonde boy's face about the diameter of a teacup saucer. Exploded matter, broken teeth, and shards of jawbone were standing proud from the pulverised face. Yet....Was that breath?

He drew his knife. Prodded it into the boy's arm. The arm flinched, recoiled back. With mounting horror, he looked to the face again; his eyes widened.

The longer he stared, the more he saw it. The teeth, the jawbone, they were...moving. A snail's pace to be sure, but they were moving, sawing through ruined flesh as they did so. Although it was immediately obvious that they were moving, it was less obvious what they were moving towards. But Rais knew. Some primal instinct deep in his belly told him that the face of the boy was repairing itself. He looked across to the other, and saw the exact same thing.

His terror was immediate, and he almost fled there and then, but something stayed him, some memory; the hero boy, the one everybody loved...the one they'd arrested, Eren Yeager. Couldn't he do this? He could turn into a titan, everybody knew that, but he was sure...

That was it. He knew immediately what he had here. And the fear was replaced with a sudden and immediate bout of relieved laughter.

They were the others. The ones from across the ocean, from the other countries that wanted his home and all its people to be exterminated. He remembered the girl, the one they captured all those years ago before he was even a soldier and was little more than a petty thug. She and her comrades it was said, had sneaked onto the island to capture Eren Yeager. These then, must be two more of the same.

Rais was about to become a hero. Potentially, a very rich hero. He wiped the blade of his knife on the jacket of the larger body, sheathed it, and stood. He laughed merrily, long and loud and clear, as he dusted his hands.

''Well boys; its clear what you wanted here and no mistake. Unfortunately for you, old Rais wasn't the best shot in the underground for nothing. No sir!'' He laughed again. He would need to find something to restrain them for when they woke...he wondered if there was any rope in the farmhouse...

''What's going on?''

The voice made him flinch. The girl. The Queen. He had quite forgotten about her in his exultation. But now, snapped back to reality, he turned around to look at the pregnant little whore stood in the farmhouse's open doorway. He grinned, obsequiously.

''Nothing....Your Majesty. That is, just some vagabonds trying to rob the place. They're dead now.''

Historia looked around. Three of her guards were dead, killed by extreme violence, she saw that plainly enough with the lantern raised in her hand.

''Vagabonds killed three soldiers?'' She asked, doubt in her voice.

''They surprised us.''

''Clearly.'' She murmured with a hint of acidity, before she shone the lantern's cone of light towards the other two bodies. Her eyes went wide with what she saw. Steam. Unmistakable. And not just any steam. The kind of steam she knew well, the kind that resulted from...

''Soldier!'' She barked suddenly. ''Those two bodies! Bring them inside, immediately!'' Her heart was pounding. Her mouth was dry.

Rais regarded the girl thoughtfully. He did not move to obey, which made her frown, and at this, he had to grin. It was no secret to either of them that they shared a mutual distaste for one another; Rais was convinced that the girl was a mere upstart undeserving of her status. It is a curious thing to note that those who have struggled the most in life to survive, can in some instances resent those they think have grown above their station. Had Historia been of unquestioned noble birth, Rais would in all likelihood have served her contentedly enough. As it was though...

''Did you hear me? Bring them inside, right now!''

''No.''

At first, Historia was so astonished by the blunt refusal that she simply stared at the man for a few moments. When she opened her mouth again to speak, he got there first.

''You can stick your orders where the sun fails to shine, Your Majesty. These two are mine. Now go back inside, keep quiet, and don't come out again until I tell you to.''

She knew then, that this was it. This man had no intention of leaving her be now. After speaking to her like that, she knew it was only a matter of time until he disposed of her; she looked down at the steaming bodies...Then her eyes flickered to the dead guards. Rais followed her gaze, and grinned.

''That's right. Good idea. I don't see why I even need to bother anymore. I'll just blame your death on them! Who can say any different? And if they deny it, who would believe them after what they did to my poor comrades?''

Rais turned to stride towards where he had placed his rifle. He had managed perhaps three steps, when the click of a pistol's hammer halted him in his tracks. He turned back to Historia.

The revolver was not fancy; it was black iron, squat, and brutish. Eren had given it to her when she had seen him last, instructing her to keep it safe in case she ever needed it. In truth however, she had lacked the opportunity to practise with it, and doubted she could hit Rais if he decided to take his chances. Fortunately she had correctly judged the man as a coward, and he remained standing still as she trained the pistol on him.

''Don't move.'' She said, needlessly. The thuggish soldier narrowed his eyes, perhaps half in surprise and half in annoyance, and nodded. There he stood, still as a statue, caught almost mid stride, his rifle perhaps six feet away.

_Well now what?_ Historia asked herself. The pistol remained pointed towards the soldier, and she bit her lip thoughtfully. After a few moments, she finally gave a nod.

''Right...um.....pick up the bodies! And bring them to the porch!''

''…..I'll have to do it one at a time...''

''I know that! Just...Just do it!'' She gave a small growl of irritation, waving the barrel of the pistol briefly towards the house, before training it back on to Rais.

It took him the best part of ten minutes. The big body was heavy and had to be dragged to the door, and heaved up the steps, until Rais was able to lay him down on the wooden decking. Panting softly by this point, he retrieved the slighter body; a much easier job since he was able to just carry that one. By this point, both faces were reforming enough that Historia could start to identify the one she knew. She stole a glance down at the body, in order that her suspicions might be confirmed. Her heart leapt, and she wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing.

_Reiner..._

The pistol barrel lowered, perhaps a foot as she stared down at the reforming face of the one who had once been her friend. The next thing she knew, a hand gripped her wrist, and a meaty fist crashed into her face, collapsing her vision into an explosion of headache-purple shades that swam violently in her brain.

''Bitch!'' Snarled the soldier, the hand gripping her wrist keeping it wrenched away from him even as he struck her with the other. The weapon discharged, an explosion of noise and powder, and the awning splintered above them. Rais cried out in pain as the noise almost deafened him; Historia cried out a moment later when the man slammed her hand against the doorframe, sending the weapon spinning away and crunching a dozen wood splinters into her suddenly bloody knuckles. He slapped her across the face, hard.

_The baby..._

She had to fight. She couldn't let this happen, not now. Stupid to get distracted, so stupid. But how could she fight...She could barely even walk with how far along she was, and any defensive move she tried risked harming the baby. Her mind reeled as she was struck again, this time in the opposite direction; she cried out as she crashed to the ground, stopping herself from falling on her stomach with her palms slapping to the wood; shockwaves from the bad fall ran up them, causing her to groan. She turned her face up to her assaulter, teeth clenched; blood ran down over one closed eye from where the first blow had cut her forehead. Her lips were swollen and bloody. She panted for breath, and struggled to speak, even as the soldier leered down at her.

''Nothing to say, Your Majesty?''

''…...why?'' Historia managed to gasp out. ''Why are you doing this?'' She was playing for time at this point, and well she knew it; but at the same time, she did wish to know why this man appeared to hate her so. He laughed.

''Someone really doesn't like you. Maybe they think you should know your place. Happens they're probably right.''

''So....you were told to kill me?''

''….Lets just say someone isn't going to shed any tears for the bastard who calls herself queen.''

Rais drew his knife, still red with the blood that had failed to clean. She gazed at it almost dazedly, then flicked her good eye back up to the soldier. She would not go down easy. She could promise him that. Her muscles tensed, and she flexed the fingers of one hand. Maybe if she was quick, when he lunged, she could take the knife from him...

And then his chest exploded.

Ribs erupted from a red ruin crater the diameter of a fist, and Rais crashed to his knees. The knife fell from fingers suddenly rendered nerveless, and Historia's face and hair were showered with blood. She cried out in alarm at the hot liquid splashing her face, then blinked dumbly as the corpse toppled sideways, and slid halfway down the steps of the porch.

Standing before her, wielding the smoking pistol she had dropped, was a short woman with an aquiline nose, and shoulder length, midnight black hair that looked like it hadn't seen a comb in weeks. She looked pale and ill, and her borrowed uniform was ragged, scorched and peppered with tears and other assorted damage. She looked at Historia through sleepy, half closed eyes that seemed to water slightly with pain. The gun lowered, and she fumbled for a moment before slipping it into her waistband. She spared a glance down at the two steaming bodies, and she seemed to visibly sag in relief. Finally, she turned her attention back to Historia.

''Hello. Sorry about the mess.''

Histora's mouth gaped open and closed, rather like a fish. She could not think of anything to say to this peculiar woman, who even now, was hobbling over to the rocking chair kept on the porch for her. Her hand remained clenching her side, almost like a runner with a bad stitch, and she moaned in relief as she lowered herself down into the chair, grunting as the force of the motion sent her rocking back and forth a few times. After the chair was still again, she took a deep breath, and opened her mouth to speak.

''I don't suppose you have anything to drink? I could murder a cup of tea.''


End file.
